


Keep Talking

by robotrolecall



Category: Khonjin House (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Trans Character, Canon Trans Characters, Comfort, Nightmares, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transgender Characters, fear of harming loved ones, mental health, reaching out, trans man, trans woman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotrolecall/pseuds/robotrolecall
Summary: Pent suffers from reoccurring nightmares which immensely trouble her. As a result, she is afraid to open up to Khonjin despite his questions such as asking if she's okay. Her nightmares begin to affect her well-being and mental health. Will she reach her breaking point?





	1. Coward

_The sounds of the shocked handful of people surrounding the red-headed, gray suit wearing teen collapsed were muffled in the ears of another redhead, whose fists stung in pain, dappled with blood. One person, a chef, sobbed loudly, his screams a lion’s roar. He was physically restrained from making contact with the body. The distraught figure looked down._

_On the concrete was a man whose face was swollen with blood and pus, eyes shot black and blue, teeth only a crimson wave pooling unpigmented plains. His body was bruised and broken, his life literally beaten out of him. The perpetrator’s stomach sank, bile rising up their throat. Their vision was blurry and duplicate._

_“Look what you've done!” said a cracked voice in a frightened, disappointed tone. The culprit did not make eye contact with the person._

_“Pent.” the being spoke sternly._

_Pent’s head shot up. She made eye contact with the turquoise-haired person. They had their arms crossed their chest, slowly tapping their foot. She broke away, slowly staggering backward._

_“No! No!” she screamed._

_The crowd slowly followed, caving in on the flabbergasted woman. Instinctively, she ran away from the crime scene. She breathed heavily and quickly, her legs wobbling like Jell-O. Tears were slowly trickling down her dirt covered face, her stomach burning with remorse. She did not bother to look back, the only thing on her mind was finding a place to hide._

_She suddenly tripped and fell to the ground, scraping her knees and elbows._ I can’t get up. Why can’t I get up? _She thought, trembling in fear. Her body ached in pain and remained motionless out of exhaustion. She heard singular footsteps and suddenly curled up into a ball, sobbing louder and louder as the footsteps came closer. She knew the turquoise-haired being followed. The footsteps stopped._

_“Show yourself, coward.”_

_“Smack, I—”_

     “Show yourself!”

_Pent looked up, shaking. When she went to make eye contact with Smack, a sudden blast of bright white light went off, censoring her screams and consuming her very presence._

 

     Pent darted awake, her body caked in sweat. She slowly drifted her hand down her face. It was moist with tears. She breathed unsteadily and locked her hand in a fist.

     “God fucking— _damn it!_ ” She hollered, mistakenly punching the side of the extra room’s couch.

 _“FUCK!”_ she winced in pain.

     Her fist went numb. She moved each individual finger in her hand, making sure no bones broke. The feeling in her hand returned, and her digits were unharmed. A black and blue mark began to materialize on her knuckles. She sighed, rolling herself onto her back.

     “I don't even understand why I'm even sleeping at that fucker’s place,” she said to herself loudly.

     “That jerk Smack said that living with Khonjin would _‘help me heal.’_ ” The last words were said in a mocking tone.

     “Bull _shit!_ ” her voice rose.

     “I already see a therapist. I already take medication to treat my goddamn plethora of mental illnesses. I don't see how living with that pep-pep-pep-pepperoni pizza fuck is gonna make my life any better.”

     Still shaken, she went back to resting on her stomach in an attempt to fall back asleep. She heard a knock on the door.

     “Pent?” Said a voice.

     “It's me, Khonjin. Can I come in?”

     She groaned, ignoring the knocks. He knocked again. The angry adolescent covered her head with her pillow, drowning out the noise. He knocked a third time, and she ignored it again. For a minute there was silence. Pent took the pillow off of her ears and sighed in relief. Right as she was about to lay her head on the pillow, Khonjin opened the door.

     He had short red hair and while normally sporting a suit, wore pajamas: a tank top and boxers.

     “Why the hell are you awake? It's two in the morning!” She hissed.

     Seeing Khonjin triggered the recollection of the alarming nightmare she had. She remembered Khonjin’s bruised body and felt her stomach drop.

     “...and I’m gonna be honest here, opening the door was a stupid fuckin’ idea.” She suddenly added, nervously gripping her blanket. Khonjin flipped the light switch on and squinted.

     “Were you crying?” He asked, taking note of her puffy eyes and dry tears on her cheeks.

     “What? N–no! I wasn't crying.” she fumbled. “I have allergies.”

     “If you have allergies then how come you have sweat stains on your shirt?” He pointed out. Pent blushed, realizing that she had armpit stains on her pajama shirt from nervous sweats.

     Looking for a lie she quickly said, “I–It’s hot in this room.”

     “....Ooookay.” Khonjin raised a brow in suspicion.

     “I'm being serious when I say this: Khonjin. Please, for the love of God, get the  _fuck_ out of my room.”

     Khonjin blinked. “Well… okay.” He turned off the light.

     “Goodnight, Pent.” He said, closing the door shut. His footsteps became quieter and quieter until they were soon inaudible.

     “Finally.” Pent murmured.

     She turned back onto her stomach, covered her body with a light blanket, and closed her eyes, attempting to fall asleep.

 


	2. Breakfast Conversations

     The long-haired teen stared at the ceiling, dazed. She slowly blinked, causing her eyes to burn. She had pulled an all-nighter, unable to sleep because of the nightmare she had.

     Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with the image of Khonjin beaten to death, each time in more detail. His facial expression was a frown, though it was indecipherable due to his swollen face drenched in blood. Every time she closed her eyes the image of his face and only his face would occupy her mind. To ease her stress she went on her phone, watching videos titled ‘Oddly Satisfying Compilation 2017’ and a myriad of ASMR videos. She stopped watching when she felt the warmth of the sun dapple her face, signaling it was morning.

     Her throat was dry as a desert, her saliva only providing the mirage of a water hole from afar. She reached for her water bottle and downed what was left of it. She breathed in through her nose, noting a vague scent of bacon. _Breakfast?_ As Pent stretched her arms, Khonjin cracked open the door, this time holding a plate of piping hot eggs, bacon, and buttered toast.

     “Morning, Pent!” He greeted, walking in steadily.

     “Good morning,” Pent grumbled.

     “Hey, you don't look so hot—holy shit, are those _dark circles_ under your eyes?” Khonjin’s eyes widened.

     “I've always had them, _dipshit!_ ” Pent retorted.

     “...Oh. Anyways, I didn't know if you were gonna get up to have breakfast in the kitchen so I brought you some. Think of it as breakfast in bed!” He propped the plate down, along with a knife and fork, on the coffee table across from the couch which Pent slept on.  

     “Enjoy your meal!” Khonjin said, exiting Pent’s room.

     Pent observed the plate of breakfast. The eggs were cooked sunny side up—her favorite. The bacon was placed in the shape of a smiley face, with the yolks of the eggs representing the eyes. The buttered toast was on the side of the plate, waiting to be dipped in the egg yolk. Pent smiled lightly, appreciative of Khonjin’s act of kindness. Suddenly she was swamped with a feeling of guilt. Khonjin was eating breakfast by himself.

     She grabbed her plate and the utensils and dashed out of her room to the kitchen. Khonjin was sitting on a stool that matched the kitchen island, helping himself to a plate of scrambled eggs drizzled in syrup. She hastily sat down next to him, stuffing her face with food.

     “Sheesh, you sure are hungry!” Khonjin chuckled.

     “No shit.” said Pent, her voice muffled from a mouthful of bread, her eyes focused on the dish.

     She deliberately made no eye contact with Khonjin to prevent the recollection of the nightmare she had from filling her brain.

     “So Gay Spaghetti Chef and I are going on a date later,” Khonjin began.

     “We're going out to a roller rink! The place has arcade games too.” Pent twiddled her clammy thumbs and felt her appetite slip away. Khonjin’s voice alone was a reminder of the nightmare.

     “...and after we go rollerblading we’re gonna have pizza,” Khonjin continued.

     “Then we’ll share a milkshake at an ice cream parlor. And best of all, I've finally mustered up the courage to kiss him. Maaaaaan, I'm so fuckin’ gay.” He giggled jovially, his voice layered with affection. Pent, however, wasn't listening.

     Staring at her plate, she anxiously prodded an unaltered egg yolk with her fork. The goldenrod liquid erupted like a volcano, swamping the crispy bread and fatty pork slices. Khonjin’s voice was smothered by her increasing heart rate and nervous sweats. She felt like running to her room and sobbing into her drool stained pillow.

     “Pent?” Khonjin asked.

     “Did you hear me?”

     Pent jumped. “I… uh…”

     “How come you're not eating—”

     “Can you pass me my anxiety meds?” She said quickly, interrupting.

     “But you barely ate your food! Aren't you supposed to take them on a full stomach?”

     “Khonjin, I ate enough. Just _please_ give me the pill bottle labeled Zoloft.” She said, frustrated.

     Khonjin got up, aimlessly looking for the pill bottle.

     “It's in the medicine cabinet.” She said bluntly. Khonjin opened up the medicine cabinet and read each individual label on the containers, making sure he found the right one.

_“Hurry up!”_ Pent’s voice echoed through the house. After yelling at Khonjin, she felt like crying even more.

     “I got it, I got it! Holy shit…” Khonjin exhaled in an annoyed tone. He handed Pent the bottle labeled ‘Zoloft.’ She opened it and took out one singular 50-milligram tablet. She swallowed it, washing it down with crisp, cold water.

     Silence filled the air for a couple of minutes.

     “Want me to rent a movie tomorrow? I'll buy popcorn and candy at the bodega.” Pent said, breaking the silence.

     “What movie?” Khonjin asked.

     “How about _Baby Driver?_.” Pent slid the plate containing her food scraps to Khonjin.

     "Oh, fuck yeah!" Khonjin said in response to Pent's suggestion.

     She nodded in agreement to Khonjin's enthusiasm. “You can eat the rest.” She said while speed walking to her room. Khonjin stared at the plate and contemplated throwing it out. He shrugged and slid off the eggs, bacon, and toast onto his plate and proceeded to chow down.

 

     Soon it was six o’clock in the evening. Pent was sitting down on the living room couch, helping herself to a personal pot of homemade mac and cheese. She watched the television, as a distraction, while she ate. All she did was find a distraction whether it was playing video games or browse YouTube on her phone. She did anything she was able to in order to not think about the bad dream.

     “Hah. I'm actually not that bad of a cook,” she commented quietly.

     “Hey, I'm going out with Gay Spaghetti Chef now! He's waiting for me at Fratelli’s Pizza.” Khonjin announced. He wore a more casual outfit: a graphic tee-shirt and ripped jeans.

     “Text me when you get there and also let me know when you're on your way home. If you're wearing your binder and it's starting to make your chest hurt, _please_ take it off. It'll fuck up your ribs if you don't. There's a hoodie on the coat rack, you should bring it with you.”

     “Jesus fucking Christ, you sound like an overprotective mom!” Khonjin exclaimed.

     “I'm tall enough to be your mom, Khonjin.” Pent chuckled lightly. She was two feet taller than Khonjin despite the two of them being the same age—fifteen. Pent was six feet four inches and Khonjin was four feet four inches.

     “But seriously, I don't want you doing anything stupid. I _know_ how impulsive you can be.” Pent warned sternly.

     “Alright, alright. I'll let you know. You don't have to worry about me!” Khonjin said, grabbing the pastel blue hoodie off the coat rack and running out the front door.

     “Have fun!” Pent called out. When the door shut, a crippling feeling of loneliness arose. She ate one heaping spoonful of pasta before placing the pot in the sink, running it under steaming hot water. She turned the lever on the sink to spew lukewarm water and began to wash her dishes. The flowing of the tap water from the spigot was a glorious, peaceful waterfall to the ears of the anxious teenager.

     After washing her dishes, she grabbed her phone from the couch and groggily went back to her room. Her body was physically exhausted from anxiety and her mind was mush. She collapsed onto the couch and heaved a heavy sigh. She watched videos made by a woman that reviewed different types of foods and snacks for approximately 45 minutes until she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

     Right as she was about to close her eyes, she heard her phone’s text notification go off. It was Khonjin! She jumped, taken aback by the noise. She forgot she set the ringtone for whenever she got messages from him to a soundbite of a guy saying _“Pizza!”_ from an old Domino’s Pizza commercial. The text Khonjin sent to her read:

**“spag and I are @ the roller rink! im honestly on cloud nine rn I gave him a kiss on the cheek & he kissed me back but this time on the LIPS!! hes really affectionate aaaaaahhhh i love him so much..”**

     Pent grinned.

**“im very glad. he's perfect for you i think! i’m going to sleep right now so don't get alarmed if I don't respond to ur texts. there's a spare key under the doormat in case u forgot your house keys.”** she texted back.

     She put her phone on silent, plugged in the charger, and set it on the table. She turned on the ceiling fan and rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes, the sound of the fan lulling her to sleep.


	3. Nightmare

_Pent stood in front of a beige colored funeral home, her arm which held a bouquet of white roses fumbling. Instead of wearing her signature red zoot suit and skimmer hat, she wore a sable dress suit, neatly ironed and buttoned up. Her scarlet hair was neatly brushed and curled at the sides and ends, her bangs tossed to the right of her face. She gazed at the shiny wooden door that was the entrance to the home, internally debating if she should be the first one to go in or wait for people to show up._

_There were no vehicles in the parking lot. She had walked all this way, only to be early to the funeral. She sighed and brought herself up the individual concrete steps. She gingerly opened the front door which creaked with old age. The inside of the building smelled of noxious rose perfume and dusty, worn out carpet. The halls were empty, not a single person was in sight. She walked straight down, eying for a photograph of the person who had passed away. She couldn't find one, but she took notice of the abnormally colored door. All other doors in the funeral home were a maroon hue, but this one was a dark purple._

_Her hand slowly clutched the doorknob, turning as silent as possible. The door squeaked open. There were rows of people sitting down on each individual chair. Pent was late. She stood in place awkwardly, her body tense, praying that nobody would stare. She tiptoed to find a seat, yet the seats were occupied._

_Nobody made eye contact with her._

_She relaxed her shoulders and saw that the casket was open, meaning that she could go up and pay her respects accordingly. The flowers were still grasped in her right hand. Her stride was silent as her shoes skimmed the plush carpet. She went near the casket peered inside. She gasped loudly, but nobody stared. It was Khonjin that was resting in the casket._

 

     It was Khonjin’s funeral.

 

_It all made sense to her. A week after she had beaten Khonjin to death she was mysteriously invited to a funeral. She found an invitation in an abandoned warehouse that she was taking refuge in. Tears began to well up in her eyes and the pit in her stomach came back._

_She remembered his bleeding face._

_She remembered the broken teeth, broken ribs, bruised body, and the evidence of a struggle._

_The mortician was able to make his face and body look like no harm was done._

_His bright ginger hair was neatly done, slicked back. He wore a black suit instead of a gray one, his arms rested on his belly. His eyes were closed and his mouth was in an uncomfortable expression, crinkled at the ends. He did not die peacefully._

_She felt physically ill. She placed the bouquet of roses in between Khonjin’s arms and fearfully stepped away. In the corner of her eye, a figure with a violet fedora, gray suit, and purple tie stood beside her. It was Gilmore, a mob boss and most importantly, Khonjin’s dad. He stared absentmindedly at the wall, his black eyes glazed over, not even acknowledging the murderer of his son was in the same room as him. It was like every single person in that very room was brain-dead._

_She jerked back and bumped into another person. Before she could apologize she quickly glanced at the person. It was a short, stocky man with receding purple hair, and a wore a suit the same color as Khonjin’s._

_“Gino…?” Pent whispered._

_Gino’s lit cigar fell to the floor, and a small flame was born. Distraught, Pent attempted to put the fire out by stepping on it, but it only grew stronger. In the blink of an eye, it ate the entire room up, burning everybody in it but her and the casket where Khonjin rested._

_“Oh my God…” her words were uttered in a flabbergasted tone._

_“This is all your fault!” a familiar voice echoed._

_“Smack?”_

_He emerged from the flames. The goddess knelt down, her hands in a prayer formation._

_“Smack, I'm begging you. Please don't do this.” her voice cracked._

_“I never meant for this to happen.”_

_Her body began to feel hot. The roaring flames were caving in on her. She felt trapped and alone, helpless._

_“You've hurt enough people already.”_

_Pent hollered in pain. Her skin was now burning underneath her smoldering suit._

_“And without your power to control this world, you are_ nothing _.”_

_Smack’s final words were pasted into her brain. She yelled in a combination of sadness and pain, but could not be heard, for the blaze overthrew her own voice, her own self. She had accepted her fate, the inferno of her guilt consuming her alive, leaving nothing but bony ash, the god she had betrayed, and the projection of her own self, dead._


End file.
